


He'd Thought

by Torad



Category: Naruto
Genre: Character Death, F/M, M/M, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited Love, one-sided narusasunaru, post-698
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 18:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6019789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torad/pseuds/Torad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war ended, Sasuke had thought a lot of things. He'd thought things would get better, that he would be glad to be alive and back with Naruto. Maybe he was wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He'd Thought

**Author's Note:**

> Post-698 Canon-verse (slight AU)  
> Note: the narusasu is one-sided, Naru does end up having kids with Hinata  
> Sasuke-centric
> 
> disclaimer: characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto (a.k.a. the betrayer)
> 
> My first post to this site, hope you like!

He’d thought things would turn out differently, and he couldn’t help but bitterly mutter inside the dark void in his mind that he’d been lured here under false pretenses. Of course, he hadn’t assumed they’d have sex and immediately begin a relationship as soon as they healed enough to leave the hospital, but he hadn’t expected this either. It hadn’t been him to make the first move, but he had certainly continued the progress from kissing to fucking eagerly.

He’d thought what had happened on the battlefield, out at the Valley of the End, had mattered. That his bearing of his soul for the blonde to see, unabashed, and naked in his love for the blonde had meant a shift in their dynamic. Not necessarily a romantic relationship so soon, but he’d had hope for the future after they’d healed, both body and mind. So when the blonde pressed his soft tan lips against his own, he hadn’t hesitated in pushing the kiss further, and throughout the foreplay and the fucking that followed, he’d felt pleasantly light. His worries of their future together had seemed cemented in is mind, and as they fell into slumber, still entangled and covered in a thin sheen of sweat and cooling semen on their bellies. He’d felt secure that he’d have a place beside the blonde. And naturally, he’d felt no rush to awaken and separate the next morning, still entangled and pleasantly warm. The rushed separation of the blonde from their positions had startled him out of the hazy afterglow he’d been basking in, and when he looked at the blonde, he’d seen panic.

He’d thought last night had been a step in the right direction. He didn’t understand. Not in the least. Neither of them had been intoxicated the night before, they’d both been well aware of what had happened, and the blonde had been the one to initiate it, so his panic was unfounded. At least, that’s what he’d thought as he reached out to pull the man back to bed, not quite ready to get up yet. When his arm was violently smacked away, he watched dumbfounded as he backed away towards the door, the panicked expression still present. He’d asked him what was wrong. He’d been answered with a panicked shout that the man wasn’t gay. That last night had been a mistake, that he’d regretted it, that it had only been a moment of weakness that should never have happened. That the blonde didn’t see him that way. That he was disgusted with himself for doing it. His shock must have shown on his face, because when he said he didn’t understand, a strange mix of emotions flashed across the tan face. A mix of panic, regret, pain and disgust.

He’d thought the blonde would never look at him like that. He didn’t know what to do, so he told him to stop panicking, that it would be fine. He was told to leave. Ordered to get the fuck out, more accurately. Told that the man needed to think about whether or not he wanted to see him again. That the blonde was straight, and he didn’t know if they could still interact much if he was ‘pining after’ the blonde. So he left.

He’d thought about the village as he walked. He hadn’t even bothered to pull on his shirt as he’d rushed out the door, pulling the dark material over his head now as he walked aimlessly away from the blonde’s apartment. He reminisced about the few good times he’d had with Team 7, about all the transgressions Konoha had made against him and his clan. About the faith he’d had, unwavering and powerful, that the blonde would ensure nothing like that happened ever again. He wasn’t sure he still believed that anymore.

He’d thought he’d feel something much different when he left Konoha. After signing an agreement that he would return every couple years for a check-up with a status report in hand, he’d walked out the imposing front gate. He ignored the pitying looks from Kakashi and Sakura, ignored the mixture of hate and fear that the civilians and guards exuded. He even ignored the fact that his team, the ever-faithful Taka, had known exactly when he was leaving and had packed their things to meet him on his way out. He didn’t bother asking Karin why she wanted to leave the only family she had left, just as they didn’t comment how the reason he was leaving was the same reason he’d returned in the first place.

He’d thought as soon as they were out of earshot of Konoha that Karin and Suigetsu would start their usual bickering, and that he and Juugo would continue walking in silence as they rambled on tossing insults back and forth. But they didn’t, and instead the walk was silent save for the sounds of the forest around them as they reached a dense pack of trees. Even after a few hours of jumping through the canopy away from Konoha, they had yet to even speak. No one asked him where they were going, when they would stop for food or rest, or demanded they refill their water supply. He was left with his thoughts, feeling strangely alone despite being surrounded by trusted companions. He supposed that ‘trust’ now meant a little less to him than it used to. So instead he listened to the wind playing with the fabric of his empty sleeve, the thuds of their feet against sturdy tree limbs and the bird calls above their heads.

He’d thought the farther away from Konoha they got, the less his chest would ache. Instead it seemed to ache more the farther they got away, the symbol on his palm burning painfully at the distance. When they stopped to camp the first night, he spent the better part of their meal flexing his hand to try and relieve the pain. They hadn’t mentioned his refusal of a replacement arm while he was still in the hospital, but he could feel them occasionally staring at the sleeve where his arm used to be.

He’d thought the ache would fade with time, but by the time two years had passed and he returned for his check-up and status report submission, the pain had only dulled when he entered the village again. He ignored the hateful and fearful looks from the villagers. He ignored the pitying looks from Sakura as she performed his medical exam and Kakashi as he delivered his status report. He even ignored the pitying looks from them when they told him Naruto had been dating Hinata from a week after he left. When he left again after a few days, his team was once again waiting for him at the gate without him giving them the time or day they were leaving. They left in silence.

He’d thought he was coping well, but he was obviously wrong. He barely noticed the looks his team were giving him, so the concern Juugo had in his eyes when he’d asked to speak to him alone was surprising. He’d been encouraged to talk about it, to let them help him try and move on. He couldn’t recall what he’d said to that, but it hadn’t been much. He hadn’t spoken much since he first left.

He’d thought he would have been able to cope better than this. When he returned two years later, it was just in time for Naruto’s wedding. He and Hinata had apparently been very happy. The blonde had asked Kakashi to pass on an invitation to him if he was on time for it. He hadn’t responded, and had instead left as quickly as possible. The symbol on his palm had been almost unbearable for a month after they left.

He’d thought he had gotten over this. When he returned after two long years, it was with a request to extend the periods between his visits. Request in hand, he’d been greeted with the blonde as acting Hokage, and a new father. The man had seemed remorseful that one night had ruined their ‘friendship’, but ruefully approved his request to postpone his visits to five years on the condition that he sent a hawk every other year with a status update. He left with a bitter rage in his heart when he learned the blonde hadn’t disbanded the old council, and as they left he had to restrain himself from slaughtering the guards as they stared at him with contempt.

He’d thought the day would never come when he actually wanted the blonde, cruel as he ended up being, at his side. That day came when Karin passed away. Still in her twenties, she was only aging by shinobi standards, and the three of them left mourned her loss. Among them, Suigetsu had the hardest time coping without her. He remained as obnoxious as usual, but in the empty silences that lingered between them his eyes were sombre. He sent a letter to the blonde notifying him of her death. He knew a reply awaited him when he returned, but he felt strangely angry at the blonde, knowing that despite them being family he’d ignored her during all their visits.

He'd thought time was a fixed element, but those five years passed slowly, and when they returned as a trio, it was with noticeable weight on their shoulders. He ignored the blonde’s requests to bury Karin’s body in the village. She’d been buried in the forest as she’d requested. He’d ignored the blonde’s requests to meet his family, his wife and toddler and new infant daughter. The longer he stayed, the more he ached and he’d almost prefer getting stabbed in the chest again to this. Shooting pains erupted from his palm and his chest ached furiously. Sakura had told him he had to stop being so stressed, that it was taking a toll on him and he needed to find a way to relax. When they left, it was with a new weight added to their burden. He’d thought that when he died, he’d be sad. That he’d look back and think of how he could have done things differently, about how maybe if he just tried harder, stayed longer he and Naruto would have worked out. That they could have been together. Instead, he found himself struggling to convince himself to fight it. Right before he passed out, he remembers a loud, inhuman roar and a blindingly bright light.

He’d thought everything would be different.

He’d thought wrong.


End file.
